


Lightning in a Bottle

by goodoldfashioned



Category: RedLetterMedia RPF
Genre: Drunk Sex, Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, Lightning Fast verse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 18:03:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17986028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodoldfashioned/pseuds/goodoldfashioned
Summary: Now that a year has passed, Jay is over the wedding disappointment and ready to get back out on the scene. Mike accompanies him to The Manhole after work, purely to be a good ally and definitely not to possessively cockblock him.





	Lightning in a Bottle

**Author's Note:**

> This is about the Half in the Baaaaaaag characters and their world only

Fridays were for closing early. Mike almost never made it past three o’clock, especially in winter, with the light outside already dimming. This Friday was no exception, and he was shutting down the repair shop’s single old computer at two thirty, ready to start the weekend by hitting a bar or two with Jay. 

“Ready for a drink?” Mike asked, though they’d already had two beers each, starting after lunch as usual. “A real drink, I mean,” he said, and he knocked a few empty bottles off the front counter for emphasis. 

“Yep.” Jay was unbuttoning his work shirt. He had a rather form-fitting black T-shirt on underneath, and for once there was no horror nerd shit printed on it. “And hey, guess what?”

“What?”

“In ten days it’ll be the one year anniversary of what was supposed to be my wedding.” 

Mike cringed at the reminder. “Congratulations?”

Jay rolled his eyes. “Yeah, thanks. What I’m saying is, I think I’m finally over it, Mike. I’m ready to get back out there.” 

“There?” 

“To my kind of bars. If you know what I’m saying.” 

Mike was afraid he did. This was bad news: if Jay went out and found a new sugar daddy at a gay bar, he wouldn’t need to work at the VCR repair shop for a paltry salary anymore. And if Jay didn’t work there anymore, Mike would almost certainly die alone, also poor.

“That’s cool,” Mike said, rapidly formulating a plan. “I’ll join you.” 

Jay snorted. “Very funny.” 

“I’m serious. You shouldn’t venture out alone yet. You’re still fragile. You need support.” 

“Says who?”

“I know about these things, Jay. Trust me. I’ll be your wingman.” 

Jay gave Mike a suspicious stare. “Okay,” he said, slowly. “I guess. You have to promise not to act like an ass and embarrass me, though.” 

“When have I _ever_ done that?”

Jay just stared at him. 

Mike groaned. “Fine! Okay, yes. I’ll be good.” 

Jay sighed like he didn’t believe this, but he didn’t object when Mike shrugged on his jacket and followed him out of the shop, down the street, and toward the nearest gay bar, which was also the only one in their neighborhood: The Manhole. 

“Are you gonna wear that inside?” Jay asked when they were standing out front. 

Mike looked down at his Lightning Fast VCR Repair shirt and shrugged. 

“Sure,” he said. “Why not? I’m not looking to get picked up.” 

“Yeah, but it’s embarrassing. To me.” 

“Why? Are you ashamed of your blue collar job? I’m not!” 

“This is already the worst idea ever,” Jay muttered, but he opened the door anyway, and Mike followed him inside.

The Manhole didn’t look so different from the other bars they’d been to, at first glance. It was dimly lit, with blinds covering the windows and booths and tables scattered throughout the room across from the main bar, where a snooty-looking dude in a tight white shirt was serving the few patrons who were there so early. There was nothing particularly gay about the place, and Mike was almost disappointed. Even the music was just the usual synthwave crap Jay listened to. 

Jay ordered a gin and tonic, and Mike followed his lead, determined to blend in. He eyed the guys at the bar to see if they were checking him out, but they all seemed morosely preoccupied with their drinks. When one of them did look up, his gaze lingered on Jay. He was oldish and dumpy, not too different from Plinkett.

“That guy who’s looking at you is not in your league,” Mike said, helpfully whispering this in Jay’s ear. 

“No kidding,” Jay said. He looked annoyed, not by the guy checking him out but by Mike. “There’s nobody here yet, really. Let’s just sit down and chill, okay? And please don’t assume everyone who looks at me in here wants to fuck me.” 

Mike was alarmed by this directness. Jay was usually quite bashful about this subject, or so he’d thought. 

“They probably do, though,” Mike said, again whispering this in Jay’s ear. “I mean, it’s Milwaukee. The pickings are slim.”

Jay snorted. “Thanks. Also, you might be surprised. Not that you’d be able to tell.”

“I can tell a handsome man when I see one, Jay.”

“That’s-- Never mind. Come here.”   

They sat at a booth along the front wall, in the corner. Mike thought it was a pretty shitty placement for crowd watching and being seen, but as the hours passed and the place filled up, it began to seem more like a prime spot. He supposed Jay would know, having been there before. By five o’clock the place was jumping, loud with the voices of the younger dudes who’d gathered in groups around the high tables and crowded into the booths, and the music had been turned up. Mike had finished a third gin and tonic, and Jay had slowly nursed his way through two. 

“Another?” Mike said, lifting his glass, which now held only a sad lime wedge resting on melted ice. 

“I’d better switch to beer,” Jay said. “Don’t want to get too drunk.” 

He already seemed a little looser and less annoyed, and had been laughing at Mike’s jokes more in the past hour. Mike agreed to the beer plan, went to the bar and ordered two bottles. As he returned, he stopped short when he saw a guy standing by their booth and grinning down at Jay, who was grinning back like he was enjoying the attention. Jay was even laughing at something that asshole had just said, though it almost definitely wasn’t funny.

This was bad, though the guy didn’t look like a sugar daddy. He was too young and kind of hipster-ish, but he was still a potential threat. If Jay wandered off with him, who would Mike drink with? Who would laugh at all of his jokes, even the worst ones? What if this guy and Jay fell in love and got married and moved to Kenosha to raise kids together, leaving Mike here alone? Fuck that!

“Heyyyy!” Mike said, catapulting back into the booth. He shouldered the guy out of the way and sat on the same side as Jay this time. “Here’s your beer, buddy,” he said, thunking Jay’s down. Jay scooted over as Mike crowded into his space. “Cheers!” 

“Thanks,” Jay said, flatly. He looked confused, and craned his neck around Mike to make eye contact with the guy again. “This is my friend from work,” he explained. “Mike, this is Chester.” 

“Whoa!” Mike said, after he’d almost spit beer out with laughter. “Chester? Seriously? Is that a real name, or just the name you use at gay bars?”

Chester laughed uncomfortably. “It’s a family name,” he said.

Mike snorted and drank more beer.

“Do you want to sit?” Jay asked, gesturing to the other side of the booth. 

“Yeah, pull up a seat!” Mike said, before Chester could answer. “Was Jay just telling you about the upcoming one year anniversary of the day he almost but didn’t get married to an old man who was fucking a volcano god behind his back?”

“Mike!” Jay said, hissing this under his breath. 

“What?”

“We weren’t fucking talking about that, jesus!”

“Uhh,” Chester said, glancing behind him. “I’m actually gonna check in on my friends, they were thinking about ordering some food, so. I’ll see you around.” 

He wandered off. Mike could feel Jay glaring at him before he turned to look and confirm. 

“What the fuck was that?” Jay asked. 

“What was what?”

“You’re intentionally trying to embarrass me! I knew you would do this.” 

“No, no, Jay, listen. I’m just looking out for you. You’ve been through a lot, possibly because of some things that I did, and from now on you only deserve the best of the best. That guy had a fucking nose ring, okay? That’s a no from me, dawg.” 

“You don’t get to pick who I date,” Jay said, still glaring. “Not for financial reasons, because that plan went to shit, and sure as hell not for personal reasons.” 

“I’m not saying I do! I’m just being a good friend.” 

“You’re being an obnoxious cockblock and you know it.” 

Mike recoiled, more at the idea of Jay getting anywhere near that hipster douchebag’s cock than at the accusation. 

“Do that again and you’re out of here,” Jay said, jabbing Mike’s shoulder with his finger. “And don’t sit next to me. People will think we’re a couple.” 

Mike moved to the other side of the booth. He was pouting, but Jay didn’t seem to care. Jay was scanning the crowd while he drank from his beer. Searching for his next opportunity. It was only a matter of time, Mike realized, shoulders sinking. Mike had scanned the room, too, on his way to the bar and back. Jay was the cutest guy in here, also the smallest and blondest. The little fucker was going to get swept off his feet sooner or later. 

“Are you sure you’re ready to date again?” Mike asked, desperate and running out of ideas. 

“I waited a whole year,” Jay said, giving him a look. “I’m more than ready.”

Mike’s eyebrows went up. What did ‘more than ready’ mean? Like, horny? DTF?

“When’s the last time you had sex?” Mike asked. 

“It was a while ago,” Jay said, grimly. 

“So you have had sex, previously.”

“Of course I have! Did you think I was a virgin this whole time? Do you think I come to this bar for the atmosphere?”

“I don’t know what the hell you do, Jay, you’re a weirdo.” 

This made Jay smile, for some reason. Mike was relieved enough to smile back. 

“Don’t smile at me,” Jay said, making his face serious. 

“Why the fuck not?”

“Why do you think? People will assume you’re hitting on me.” 

“Maybe I am,” Mike said, attempting a joke.

Jay didn’t look amused. He blushed and gulped from his beer. 

“If you were, at least your determination to ruin this for me would make sense,” Jay said, mumbling.

“I’m not determined to ruin it,” Mike said, though he was. “I just want it to be perfect for you, Jay, after all your lonesome suffering. Only the perfect person can have you.” 

“That’s not your decision. And you were willing to let fucking Plinkett have me, remember that?”

“Of course I remember. Can’t I learn from my mistakes?” 

“Usually not.” 

They both drank from their beers and stewed in silence for a while. Mike was starting to feel drunk, so the appropriate course of action seemed to be getting another round. He didn’t want to leave Jay alone, however. Another shark would come circling the second Mike walked off.

“I’ll get the next round,” Jay said, angrily, as if he knew what Mike was thinking. 

“Fine.” Mike had to take a leak anyway. “I want a shot with my beer this time.” 

Jay headed toward the bar, and Mike abandoned the booth for the bathroom in back. He was a little nervous about going in, not sure if some weird sex shit would be going on in the stalls, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Another guy was using the urinal against the far wall. Mike used the one farthest from him, like he would anywhere else. 

“Hey,” the guy said when he had crossed the bathroom to wash up at the sink. Mike zipped up and turned, wondering if he was about to be propositioned. “Is that cute blond with you?” the guy asked. He was tall with short black hair and a not-terrible face, and he was wearing a suit like he had come from his job at some bank or law firm. 

“Why?” Mike asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Just wondering. You’re with him, aren’t you?” 

“How can you tell?” Mike said, before he could stop himself. 

“Because you sound pissed that I’m even asking. Look, I get it. Just wanted to confirm. I don’t usually see couples in here.” 

The guy left, and Mike stared at himself in the mirror while he washed his hands. He felt mildly faint. Maybe he was drunker than he’d realized. What was happening? Nothing, nothing, everything was fine. He hurried out of the bathroom, concerned about what had become of Jay in his absence. 

Five random dudes had crowded into the booth where they’d been sitting, but Jay wasn’t with them. He was at the bar, talking to some stocky redhead in a button-up shirt. Mike hurried over and was glad when he saw Jay had a shot and a beer waiting for him. He threw back the shot and elbowed his way into the crowd, pressing up against Jay out of necessity. The place was properly packed now, and they had to shout to hear each other. Jay gave him a warning look and introduced the redhead as Danny.

“This is my work colleague,” Jay said, shouting in Danny’s direction while he pointed at Mike. “He’s very concerned about my love life, suddenly.” 

Jay sounded a little drunk now. Mike was pleased by this. He was close enough that he could smell Jay’s spicy-sweet hair product and feel that he was warm through his shirt. Feeling warm himself, Mike took his jacket off and half-listened to Danny’s lame attempts to impress Jay. Mike loomed over Jay in the meantime, drinking his beer and enjoying the fact that he was taller than Danny by more than a few inches. 

“Does that say VCR repair?” Danny asked, leaning over to shout this at Mike while he squinted at Mike’s shirt.

“Yep,” Mike said. “That’s where we work.” 

“People still use VCRs?”

“Some do,” Jay said. “There’s certain movies you can only watch on video. Rare ones.” 

He sounded a little defensive. Mike was elated. He pressed closer to Jay, expecting an elbow in the gut, but Jay didn’t notice, or didn’t mind. 

“It’s a very niche industry,” Mike said, hoping he sounded pretentious and intimidating. “Not everybody understands it. But we do. Right, Jay?” 

“Yeah.” Jay was smirking. He drank from his beer to conceal it, but the bottle was empty. “Whoops,” he said, holding it up.

“I’ll get your next one!” Danny said, practically panting for him. How embarrassing: he wasn’t cute enough. Mike didn’t even feel threatened. This was not someone who would steal Jay away from him to raise children in Kenosha. 

“That’s okay,” Jay said, waving Danny off. “I got it. Mike? You want another, uh, of each?”

“Yes, please.” 

By the time their next round of shots and beers had been set down on the bartop, Danny had given up on seducing Jay with his meager charms and had drifted off to another part of the bar. Mike and Jay toasted each other before throwing back their shots, and they were both grinning after they’d swallowed them down. The disappearance of Danny felt like a shared victory, but maybe Mike was just projecting, or drunk. Or both. 

“People just don’t get it about our line of work,” Mike said, leaning down to half-shout this near Jay’s ear. 

“You asshole,” Jay said, but he was laughing.

“A guy in the bathroom asked me about you,” Mike said, maybe unwisely. That guy had been roughly of Jay’s caliber, and maybe Jay would want to find him and set the record straight about not actually being with Mike, though really he _was_ with Mike, in a way. It wasn’t a total lie. They were a matched set.

“What?” Jay said, leaning closer and coming up onto his toes to hear better. 

“A guy in the bathroom told me you were cute!” 

“That doesn’t make any sense!”

“Sure it does! You are!”

Jay pulled back to give Mike an uncertain look, like maybe Mike was making fun of him.

“He was congratulating me,” Mike said, though this wasn’t entirely accurate. “On having you.” 

“I can barely hear you,” Jay said. Mike had the feeling he was lying, because his face was turning red. Jay pulled Mike away from the bar, holding his forearm. “Come over here, it’s too loud.” 

They walked away from the bar, Mike with regret, because standing amid the crush of people there had given him an excuse to cozy up to Jay like they really were together, in the way that bathroom guy had meant. Passionately, or whatever. It was just a good buffer to keep other dudes from thinking they could steal Jay from him, was all. Also Jay smelled good, which Mike had actually noticed before. 

“Do I stink?” Mike asked when they were leaning against the wall opposite the bar, where it was somewhat quieter.

“Huh?” Jay said.

“I was asking if I smell bad.” Mike sniffed at his work shirt. It smelled like the repair shop: vinyl, stale coffee, and beer.

“You smell fine.” Jay was frowning like the question offended him. He looked out at the crowd, sighed, and looked back at Mike. “Why is everyone so lame?” he asked.

“It’s not that they’re especially lame, Jay. It’s that we’re especially awesome.” 

Jay snorted, then smiled.

“It’s hard for others to measure up to this kind of excellence,” Mike said, poking Jay’s chest, then his own. “We’re operating on another level.” 

“You’re delusional,” Jay said, still smiling. 

“Would you ever shave your beard?” Mike asked. He reached up to touch it, then thought better of it and made a pretense of scratching at his own jawline instead. 

“Probably not,” Jay said. “Why?” 

“It makes you too hot. I mean, too much of a hot-- commodity. Around here. I need you to be just mine, like you used to be. My sidekick.”

“Wow. You’re drunk. I was never your sidekick.” 

“Jay.” Mike tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. “Let’s get real here. You were.” 

“Fine, but that was past tense! I mean, in the past. Previously. I’m my own person, Mike. You don’t own me.” 

Mike drank from his beer. A flush of heat spread across his face and down over his chest. What would it be like to own Jay, anyway? What did it mean that he kind of felt like he already did, or should?

Jay was still gazing up at Mike defiantly. 

“Okay,” Mike said. “But! If there’s anyone in the world who almost owns you. It’s me.” 

“Why are you like this?” Jay didn’t look like he really minded that much. He seemed entertained by the conversation, at least. 

“That’s it!” Mike said, pointing his finger in Jay’s face. “Entertainment value. I’m like your one man show.” 

“You’re a show all right. A shit show.”

“Ha ha.”

“You know, I thought it was weird when you were super invested in getting me married to Plinkett and speculating in detail about our wedding night and honeymoon,” Jay said, eyes narrowing. “But I wrote it off as financially motivated, because everything you do is.” 

“It’s true.” 

“Is it, Mike? I don’t see what your angle is, wanting to scare these random guys away from me.” 

“I told you! They’re not right for you.” 

“Yeah? You got somebody in mind who is?”

“Well, _theoretically_ \--” 

Mike broke off there turned to squint at the crowd. The music was louder and people had started dancing. What the hell was he doing here? He drained the rest of his beer, wanting to be more drunk.

“Theoretically?” Jay said, lifting his eyebrows when Mike turned back to him. 

Mike tried to drink from his empty beer. Jay just went on staring at him, radiating smugness.

“I’ll know him when I see him,” Mike mumbled. 

“Yeah, I’ll bet. When’s the last time _you_ got laid, by the way?”

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Oh, but my sex life is fair game?”

“There are never any women around!” Mike said, throwing out his arms as if this gay bar demonstrated that truth. “That ain’t my fault!”

Jay gave him a look like maybe it was his fault. Mike didn’t appreciate that.  

“I know you think I’m a disgusting sack of shit,” Mike said. “But not all women do.” 

“I don’t think that!” Jay looked scandalized, his eyes widening. “What are you talking about?”

“I was kidding!” Mike said, though he wasn’t. “But maybe it’s just a little more valid for me to give you grief about not getting laid, is all I’m saying.” 

“Why?”

“There are like ten guys in here who are staring at you right now.” 

“No, there aren’t.” Jay peeked around at the crowd nervously. “I counted two,” he said when he turned back to Mike. “And they might have been looking at you.” 

“Ha.” 

“You are a lot of guys’ type, Mike. Have you heard of bears?”

“Of course I’ve heard of bears, Jay.” 

“I mean the kind that are gay men.”

“I know what you meant! I know about gay bears!”

Mike glanced around after saying so, because maybe he’d said that a little too loud.

“Well,” Jay said. He blinked, swallowed, seemed like he’d lost his train of thought. “So. Too bad you’re not gay, because you’d clean up with this crowd.” 

Jay awkwardly nodded to himself and drank from his beer. Mike thought it was probably about time for another round, also a good thing they both lived in walking distance of The Manhole. 

“I’m gonna get more beers,” Mike said, gesturing to the bar. “You want to come with me?”

“Nah, I’m good here.” 

Mike sighed and headed off on his task. Some guy would be talking to Jay when he returned. He was sure of it. Maybe he should just accept his fate as a straight bear who was ill-suited to the tastes of most women. Though he did have that one recurring fantasy about Walter White nailing Jesse Pinkman. What was that about? Something about it just seemed right, also great. But those were fictional characters, so maybe thinking about them wasn’t the same as whatever Jay thought about, though Jay almost definitely had some fucked up fantasies about horror movie characters. One of them was probably Ash from _Evil Dead_. Jay had once claimed Mike looked like him, which wasn’t even true.

Mike was kind of excited to ask Jay about his weird fantasies as he made his way back with two shots cradled precariously in his palm and the necks of two beer bottles gripped in his other hand. His excitement was dashed when he saw Jay talking to a tall man with messy brown hair and a lopsided grin. The guy was leaning against the wall beside Jay, eating him up with his eyes. 

“Hey,” Mike said when he approached them. He held out the shots so Jay would take one, then handed him his beer. Jay’s new friend was sizing Mike up and probably finding him non-threatening. The guy was handsome and fit, wearing stylish but not too stylish clothes: a flannel shirt and tight jeans. His shoes were the kiss of death. High top Converse sneakers. Black ones, even. 

“This is Charlie,” Jay said, gesturing to the guy with his beer. 

Ugh. Even the name was good. 

“I’m Mike,” Mike said, monotone. He wondered if he should just leave. In the meantime, he threw back his shot. 

“Nice to meet you,” Charlie said. He looked a little confused, like he wasn’t sure why this schlub was hanging around with such a prime twink specimen. Though maybe Jay was an otter. Mike wasn’t sure where the line was, exactly.

“We work together,” Mike explained.

“We’re also best friends,” Jay said, weirdly. 

Though it was true.

“Aw,” Charlie said. He looked confused again. “Best friends who troll for cock together. That’s heartwarming.” 

Jay laughed, but it seemed kind of forced, like someone had punched it out of him. Mike had to admit it was a pretty funny comment. He just wasn’t in the mood for laughing. 

“No, Mike is straight,” Jay said. He was slurring, Mike noticed, and his eyelids had taken on a drunken heaviness. “He’s just very protective of me, apparently.” 

“How does that work?” Charlie asked, glancing between them. 

“It doesn’t,” Mike said. “I’ve almost ruined his life several times.”

“No, no,” Jay said, reaching over to swat at Mike. “Well, yeah, but s’all water under the bridge.”

“Cheers to that,” Charlie said, and he lifted his beer bottle. 

All three of them drank. Jay stumbled backward a little after he had, chuckling to himself. 

“I should of ate more for lunch,” Jay said, rubbing his hand over his face. “I’m on a diet,” he explained, tipping toward Charlie. “You see, I gained some weight. Over the holidays.”

“That’ll happen.” Charlie looked amused, and like he might be willing to take advantage of Jay’s increasing state of intoxication. 

So Mike had a new mission, wholesome this time: not letting him. 

“You come to gay bars with your friend often?” Charlie asked Mike, looking as if he’d zeroed in on him as an obstacle. 

“This is his first time,” Jay said, before Mike could answer. “See, I had a bad relationship last year. Or, anyway, it ended badly. And this is my first time going out, since then.” 

“Oh, I’ve been there,” Charlie said.

“Mhmm,” Jay said, narrowing his eyes. “I don’t think that you have, not like this. Unless you also had your elderly fiance stolen from you by a volcano god.” 

Charlie snorted and looked at Mike, then back at Jay. “Yeah, can’t say that I have.” 

“Nobody’s gone through all the shit we’ve gone through,” Jay said. He stepped backward and stumbled into Mike. 

“You guys seem pretty close,” Charlie said, clearly trying to suggest something. 

“We’ve been through a lot together,” Mike said, echoing Jay. 

“Have you tried fucking each other?” Charlie asked, casual-like, as if this was a friendly question. “‘Cause I think you might like it.” 

Jay laughed again, hard. It seemed very fake this time. Mike felt himself scowling. 

“You should take him home,” Charlie said, pointing to Jay, who was bracing himself against Mike’s shoulder as if laughing that hard had made him lose his balance. “And maybe take my advice, when he’s sobered up.” 

“What advice?” Jay asked when Charlie walked off. Jay turned to Mike and gave him a stupid grin. It was also adorable, which: oh no. Mike wanted to fight Charlie, but he’d disappeared into the crowd. “What advice?” Jay asked again, squinting. 

“To take you home. You’re trashed, man.” 

“No, I’m not, m’fine. We just got here.”

“We’ve been here for like three hours. I’m pretty drunk, too. Let’s go get some food. Then we can watch a movie or something, at your place.” 

“I feel like a failure,” Jay said. He slumped against the wall and looked like he might cry, though that was impossible. Jay had never cried, to Mike’s knowledge. “I couldn’t even get Mr. Plinkett to marry me.” 

“He still wanted to. You’re the one who called it off, because lots of people would have died.” 

“Oh, right. I guess I blocked that out.” 

“And this whole night has pretty much proven that you can have anyone you want,” Mike said, thinking out loud. He wished he hadn’t said it when he saw the way Jay was looking at him, as if he’d taken it as some kind of insult. “In the Milwaukee gay scene, anyway.”

“Fuck the Milwaukee gay scene,” Jay said. “Let’s go eat.”

They pulled their jackets back on and went out into the biting cold, wandering down the street until they came to their favorite cheap Mexican joint. It wasn’t great, but it was fast and satisfying, and they shared a giant plate of nachos and a pitcher of beer. Jay’s mood seemed to improve as the food hit his stomach. Mike kept the conversation to their usual bullshitting, avoiding anything about Plinkett or dating or when they’d both last gotten laid, or why it had been so long ago. 

This strategy for diffusing the tension only worked until they reached Jay’s apartment, where Mr. Plinkett was sitting in the hallway, slumped against Jay’s front door with his head tipped forward. There was a bouquet of red roses in his lap, and aside from the fact that he had one hand clutched around their stems, he looked dead. 

“What the fuck?” Jay said. He was blinking rapidly, as if this was a drunken hallucination, and he looked at Mike to confirm the terrible reality of it. “Why is he-- What is he doing?”

“Plinkett!” Mike said, enraged by the sight of him. He gave the old man a kick. 

Plinkett grunted, apparently not dead, but he didn’t move.

“Harry!” Jay said, and Mike winced. 

“Don’t fucking call him that,” Mike said. “Please.”

“Why not? It’s his name. Hey!” Jay gave Mr. Plinkett a kick, more gently than Mike had. “Wake up! Is he okay?” Jay asked, turning back to Mike. “Should we call an ambulance?”

“Fuck no. Get your ass off the floor, old man!” Mike bellowed, and this finally worked: Plinkett jerked in alarm and swung out blindly with the roses as if they were a weapon and he was under attack. 

“Hands off my shoes!” Plinkett slurred, kicking out at some invisible enemy. He cowered and peered up at Mike and Jay, holding the roses across his chest like a shield. “Oh,” he said. “This isn’t the bus station.” 

“It’s my apartment,” Jay said. He crossed his arms over his chest and scowled. “What are you doing here?”

“Yeah,” Mike said. He squared his shoulders and stood beside Jay, glad for the opportunity to support him in his righteous anger. “Get out of here with those fucking flowers! Who do you think you are?”

“Baby,” Plinkett said, scrambling to his feet with a series of pained grunts. The roses were worse for the wear when he lifted them in Jay’s direction, petals scattering. “Look, I won’t mince words. It’s been a year and I still don’t give a fuck about a volcano going off and killing thousands of schmucks who were stupid enough to live in spewing range. I miss you, goddammit! Sweetcheeks, I want you back.” 

“No!” Mike shouted.

Both Jay and Plinkett turned to Mike, the wilting flowers still outstretched in Plinkett’s grip. 

“I’m talking to him!” Plinkett said, flinging more petals in Jay’s direction. “Not you, fatso, so keep out of it!”

“First of all, you’re fatter than me,” Mike said, though technically it was a close contest. Mike was taller, at least. “Second, he’s my friend, and you’re harassing him, so get fuckin’ lost!”

“Why don’t you let him speak for himself, asshole!”

They both turned to look at Jay, whose upper lip twitched into a kind of suppressed snarl, eyes narrowing. When he uncrossed his arms his hands were in fists.

“You know what?” Jay said. “Fuck both of you.”

He walked around Mr. Plinkett and unlocked his apartment door, fumbling clumsily with the keys either because he was drunk or shaking with rage, maybe both.

“What did I do?” Mike asked, genuinely confused.

Jay answered him by walking into the apartment and slamming the door behind him. Mike listened for the lock, but he didn’t hear it click. Maybe Jay was just too mad to remember to lock him out. 

“Goddammit, this is your fault!” Mr. Plinkett said, thrashing Mike in the shoulder with the flowers. “If you hadn’t interrupted our wedding--”

“Then your loser son would have anyway!” Mike said. He grabbed for the flowers, but Mr. Plinkett was suddenly spry and evaded his hands. “Not to mention your cosmic dom boyfriend.” 

“No, no, it’s more than that,” Plinkett said. He was pointing the flowers at Mike as he backed away, snarling. “What the hell are you even doing here on a Friday night? Can’t leave him alone for five goddamn seconds, can you?”

“The fuck are you blathering about now, old man?”

“You know exactly what I’m getting at! You wanted my money, sure. But you also wanted my hot little twink all to yourself, deep down in your pathetically repressed quagmire of a subconscious.”

“What twink?” Mike asked, jumping back, as if Plinkett had whacked him with the flowers again. “ _Jay_?”

“You see any other twinks around here?”

“You’re out of your goddamn mind! Get the hell out of here before I call the cops!”

“This ain’t even your place, genius! He just told you to fuck off, too, in case you didn’t notice!”

“I’m not playing around old man!” Mike charged toward Plinkett, pointing toward the elevators at the end of the hallway. Plinkett wheeled backward and almost fell over, retreating. “Beat it!” Mike bellowed, knowing he shouldn’t feel this powerful when his opponent was an incontinent 200 year old man. “Before I kick your ass!” 

“What are you gonna do, stand guard outside his door all night? Ha! Tell Jay to give me a call if he wants to remember what it’s like to be with a man of _action_ , not some washed-up drunk who couldn’t find his dick with two hands and a flashlight.” 

Mike was almost mad and inebriated enough to follow Plinkett down the hallway and give him a parting kick in the ass, but he didn’t bother. He was more worried about Jay realizing he hadn’t locked the door and coming back to do it, thereby leaving Mike without an explanation for his sudden anger. Because really, what _had_ Mike done? Shouldn’t Jay be grateful to him for being here, so that Jay didn’t have to chase Plinkett off on his own?

“I’m coming in!” Mike shouted when he opened Jay’s apartment door, lingering in the doorway with his head poked into the small foyer. “Are you decent?”

Mike heard Jay mumble something from back in the bedroom. He stepped in and shut the door behind him, then locked it. The last thing he needed was Plinkett barreling in here with more brazen accusations and disgusting pet names for Jay. 

“Can I come in?” Mike shouted, standing in the foyer.

“You already did!” 

“I mean to your bedroom.” 

“Ugh,” Jay said, but there some kind of fondness in it, or forgiveness. “Yes.”

Mike slowed his steps on his way to Jay’s bedroom, not sure what he would find. He wasn’t even sure what he _wanted_ to find. He was floaty enough from all the drinks not to care about Plinkett’s theories about him and why he was here on Jay’s theoretical first night back on the scene. Plinkett didn’t have any friends; all his friends were dead. He didn’t know, or remember, what it was like to feel non-sexually possessive of the people you spent all your time with. Or the person, in Mike’s case. 

Jay was sitting on his bed. The only light in the room was moonglow and streetlight from the bedroom window, which was long and narrow on the wall behind the bed, near the ceiling. Jay had taken his shoes off but was otherwise still dressed, and still looking pissed off. 

“What do you want?” Jay asked when Mike just stood there in the bedroom doorway. 

“We were gonna watch a movie,” Mike muttered, feeling ridiculous. “Remember?”

“That’s what you came in here to do?” Jay said flatly. He sounded doubtful and like he wasn’t really asking a question.

Mike fidgeted in place. He had been in Jay’s bedroom before, but he couldn’t remember why. The only bathroom in the apartment was attached, so maybe he just walked through here on his way to take a piss and snooped around a little afterward.

“Well, what else would we do?” Mike asked, either trying to sound seductive or making a joke of trying to sound seductive. Plinkett had thrown him off course with all that bullshit.

“You wrecked my chances of getting laid tonight,” Jay said, eyes flashing.

“With those assholes from the bar? Please! You would have regretted it.”

“Stop acting like you know my mind better than I do.”

“Oh, but I do!”

“Based on _what_?”

Mike opened his mouth to respond, and felt his face getting hot when he couldn’t come up anything. But he was sure he was right.

“Maybe I just know your worth better than you do,” Mike said.

“Yeah, worth enough to be sold off to Plinkett to make your fortune.”

“Jesus, get past it! I’m sorry, okay? You’re the one who was fuckin’ into it!”

“See!” Jay said, pointing at Mike. “You don’t know me half as well as you think.”

“Huh?” Mike hated the idea. If he didn’t know Jay, what did he know?

“You really thought I’d fallen in love with _Plinkett_?” Jay said, standing. He threw both his arms out like he was at a loss, looking stricken. “That’s how fucked up and pathetic you think I am?”

“Wait-- Hang on.” Mike closed his eyes for a moment and opened them again. Jay was staring at him, looking furious. “You’re the one who told me--”

“I know what I said! Maybe if you stopped to think about it for a minute you’d figure out why.”

Mike shook his head. “You were trying to double cross me? Trying to get the money yourself?”

“No! Well, yeah, I considered that might be one outcome. I sure as shit wasn’t signing that pre-nup like the moron you took me for.”

“What was the other outcome?” Mike asked. He felt like the room was spinning, though he was also startlingly sober, suddenly.

“Exactly what fucking happened!” Jay said. He made a sort of helpless noise, like he’d just been punched in the gut. “But then it just petered out into nothing. Hence me going out looking to get laid, finally. Because I gave up.”

“Gave up on what? I’m so confused.”

“No shit! But you still showed up to my wedding and tried to stop it when you thought I really-- That it was what I really wanted.”

Mike thought about that day, racing out to Vegas and saying the wedding couldn’t go forward. It was because Jay had his money! Though maybe also because Plinkett had his Jay.

“So you were lying about wanting to be with Plinkett?” Mike said. “To see if I’d come after you?”

Jay seemed to deflate when he heard Mike say it out loud. He stepped backward, still a little unsteady in his steps, stumbled against the edge of the mattress and dropped to a seat on the bed.

“Forget it,” Jay said. “I’m drunk. Just don’t follow me around like that if you don’t want to end up back here at the end of the night.”

“Here?”

“You’re in my bedroom, you fucker! A year after you crashed my wedding and shouted about how I couldn’t get married! What the fuck, Mike! I waited a year, and you did nothing, but now, suddenly--” Jay threw his arms out in Mike’s direction, gesturing angrily. “There you are, again!”

“Jay, are you trying to say that I’m here because I’m in love with you?”

“I’m saying the fucking opposite of that, you idiot.”

“That I hate you?”

Jay groaned and flopped back onto the bed, bringing both hands up to cover his face.

“Just get out,” Jay said, voice muffled against his hands.

“But-- We shouldn’t go to bed angry. Tell me what I can do to make it up to you.”

“Oh my god.”

“Or I could guess,” Mike said, walking toward the bed.

Jay took his hands away from his face. When he saw how close Mike had gotten, he sat up on his elbows and looked vaguely frightened. Mike wasn’t proud of himself for finding this arousing, but it couldn’t be helped. He halted his steps and raised his eyebrows, waiting to see if Jay was going to put a stop to this. Mike had already decided that he wouldn’t, if it were up to him. In a roundabout way, Jay had just stuttered out some kind of love confession, up to and including his willingness to wed a disgusting old man in order to make Mike jealous. Which was exactly the kind of sick and demented shit that Mike loved about Jay. Knowing that he’d done it to get Mike’s attention felt like being infused with a drug way more potent than booze, something that was fizzing inside him like carbonated crack.

“So what’s your guess,” Jay asked. His hands twitched uncertainly on the bed, and he opened his spread-apart legs a tiny bit wider. 

It was more than enough of an invitation for Mike to continue. He walked forward and put one knee on the bed. He had always been clumsy when he wanted something, especially if the wanting it came over him like an epiphany, like this, so he took care not to flop onto Jay like a walrus in heat, instead hauling him up with both arms and pulling him so close that he could smell the beer on Jay’s breath when he gasped. Then he was tasting it, pressing his tongue into Jay’s mouth and licking across his shaking lips while Jay tried to keep up.

Jay’s hands went to Mike’s shoulders. There was a second when it seemed like he might push Mike away, but then he shifted closer, wrapping both arms around Mike’s neck and pulling him down onto the bed. So he did want to be crushed under Mike like a walrus in heat: he tugged Mike onto him and moaned into his mouth, arching up to get more contact. Mike had always suspected Jay would be either a blushing prude or a wanton slut in bed. Now, actually in bed with Jay-- on top of him! --the reality was a perfect combination of the two. Jay was making the softest little half-swallowed sounds while Mike kissed him, sweet and overwhelmed. He was also wrapping his legs around Mike’s back and humping his gut.

“Oh, fuck, wait,” Jay said when Mike moved down to lick and suck at his neck, stunned almost to the point of hypnotism by how good Jay smelled at the join of his neck and shoulder.

“Wait for what,” Mike mumbled, his mouth still wet on Jay’s skin.

“I-- I don’t know, I shouldn’t do this.”

Mike lifted his face and frowned. They were both breathing hard, also hard in their jeans.

“Why not?” Mike asked. It was already clear this was the best idea they’d ever had, way overdue.

“Um, I. I don’t know. Because I have feelings?”

“And I don’t?”

“Not about this.”

“Bullshit. I have a feeling about this, Jay. You want to hear it?”

“Y-yeah?”

“I feel like you’re mine,” Mike said, and he pressed Jay down hard against the bed, to demonstrate. Jay made a whimpery sound when Mike kissed him again, and it tasted like agreement, like a bone-deep admission that yes, Mike was right about that. Mike loved being right, and especially when it was Jay telling him so.

“Oh, god,” Jay said when he could talk again, eyes muggy and dark. He rolled his hips up against Mike and nodded when Mike gripped both his hands, lifted them over his head and pinned them to the bed.

“Yeah?” Mike said, nipping at Jay’s jaw.

“Yeah,” Jay agreed, voice breaking.

“Tell me how long you’ve wanted me to fuck you,” Mike said, growling this near Jay’s ear. He was just drunk enough to be eloquent and fearless at the same time. “And how bad.”

“Shut up,” Jay said, still nudging his whole body up against every part of Mike’s that he could touch, arms pinned tight over his head.

“Okay,” Mike said, and he bent down to kiss Jay’s neck again, sucking at the fragrant skin there until Jay whined a little. “But if you don’t tell me, I’m gonna assume it’s been since the day we met, and so bad that you would have gotten on your knees for it any time I asked.”

“Not accurate.”

But Jay was grinning a little, like he was impressed yet again by Mike’s masterful intuition, and his face was very hot when Mike kissed his cheek. Mike wanted to be absolutely filthy with him and sweet, too. He wanted to take Jay apart until he was sobbing and then put him back together. It was novel, a new combination of urges.

“What do you like?” Mike asked, hoping he’d sounded dark and menacing and that this would cover for the fact that he didn’t really know what to do next.

“This,” Jay said, squirming helplessly in his grip. “You.”

“Don’t tell me I can do whatever I want to you. ‘Cause if you do, I will.”

“Fuck,” Jay said, exhaling this with what sounded like astonishment. He nodded and closed his eyes, legs tightening around Mike’s back. “Please, yeah. That’s all I fucking want.”

“Oh?” Mike said, really sort of struck by this. “You poor, poor thing.”

Jay scoffed and cracked his eyes open. “Like there’s anything you can do to me that I can’t take.”

Mike wanted to say something heated and smooth in response, but the way Jay was looking at him made all the air empty out of his lungs. He looked like he was daring Mike to try to break him in two, and also like he trusted that Mike wouldn’t do it. Mike leaned in to kiss him, trying to steal his breath back.

The kissing went on for a while, and Mike pushed his hands up under Jay’s shirt to feel him up, a move he was familiar with since all the people he’d fucked before this had tits. Jay shivered and twisted in his grip, his hands sliding up into Mike’s hair. Mike could feel the shape of Jay’s ribs when he sucked his breath in, and his embarrassingly, adorably sparse chest hair. He almost had flat little A-cups, maybe because of the temporary holiday weight gain, and he grunted in protest when Mike squeezed them. Mike sat back and pushed up the hem of Jay’s t-shirt until he got the idea and helped Mike take it off.

“Well, shit,” Mike said when he was kneeling in Jay’s lap, leaning back to take in the shirtless sight of him.

“What?” Jay asked, shoulders lifting.

“You’re so--” Mike squeezed Jay’s shoulders, then slid his hands down to Jay’s biceps. Jay had muscles now, the vain little fucker, but he was so compact, so cute. Mike just shook his head. They could get mushy about this shit later, maybe. He reached down to cup his hand around the tent in Jay’s jeans and smirked when Jay made a startled noise and pressed up against his palm.

“Mike,” Jay said, pathetic and needy in a way that went right to Mike’s dick, and when _had_ he last gotten laid? It wasn’t memorable, whenever it had happened. No previous time had ever felt like this, like he was not just getting off but also being crowned king of some virgin paradise. Jay might claim he wasn’t a virgin, but he reacted to being touched like he was one, with the kind of amazed, breathless gratitude of somebody who had never felt like this before.

“Your mouth is really wet,” Mike said, mumbling this against Jay’s lips when they kissed again.

“It’s ‘cause you’re-- Doing that,” Jay said. He braced his hands on Mike’s arms and buried his face against Mike’s throat, humping his hand like a kid who was about to come in his pants.

“You want to take your pants off?” Mike asked, taunting him a little.

“Mhmph,” Jay said, nodding lazily, his hot face still hidden against Mike’s neck. “Can I take this off?” he asked, fingering one of the buttons on Mike’s Lightning Fast shirt.

“No,” Mike said. He slid away from Jay, just enough to get a look at the button on his jeans, then the zipper.

“Why not?” Jay asked, tugging at Mike’s shirt tail.

“‘Cause I want to wear it while we do this, so every time we’re at work I’ll know you’re sitting there thinking, that’s the shirt Mike wore when he fucked my brains out.”

Jay rolled his eyes and shoved his pants off, underwear coming down with them. For the first time since he’d cannonballed himself into this, Mike felt a little out of his depth, though not quite nervous. How could he be nervous with Jay so shivery and sweet underneath him, curling his naked body up against Mike’s still fully-clothed one and clinging to him?

“It’s been a long time since I was undressed with someone like this,” Jay said, muttering this against Mike’s shoulder.

“You can rest assured you’re still perfect,” Mike said. He ran a tentative hand from the small of Jay’s back downward, then up again.

“Um, question,” Jay said, tipping his head back so their eyes met. “Do you have a really big dick?”

“Can’t you tell?” It was still trapped in Mike’s jeans but also jammed against Jay’s thigh.

“I wasn’t sure if I was hallucinating.”

“Jay, come on. You’ve always known, in your heart, that my dick is big.”

Jay threw his head back and laughed hard. It was so like one of those normal times when Mike was sort of stunned by how funny Jay could almost inexplicably find him to be, and Mike felt a high and tight thing unlock in his chest, every gnarled fear inside flooding out of it, other things flooding in. He licked Jay from the base of his throat upward and squirmed his hand down between them. They both sucked in their breath sharply when he wrapped his fingers around Jay’s dick. Mike told himself that his gasp had been manful or mocking or something, but Jay didn’t seem to have noticed anyway. He was clinging to Mike, hot all over, his panting mouth open on Mike’s neck.

“Shit,” Mike said, rubbing his thumb around curiously.

“What?” Jay asked, shoulders tensing.

“I never thought about the fact that guys get, like. Wet.”

Jay huffed and bit at Mike’s jaw: gently, like a warning.

“I mean, I know it happens,” Mike said, because of course he did: he was leaking pre-come into his boxers at present. “I just never _thought_ about it.”

Jay pulled back to look at him and grinned as if he’d found something he’d hoped to see.

“You’re blushing,” he said, reaching up to swipe his thumb across Mike’s cheek.

“I’m holding your dick,” Mike said, and he gave it a few pumps, watching as Jay’s eyes fell shut and his lips parted. “It’s your dick’s fault.”

“You could investigate further,” Jay said, cracking his eyes open. He bit his lip and seemed to consider if he should say something more. “With your mouth.”

“Well, Jay, I never thought I’d see the day when you’d ask me to suck your dick and really mean it, but here we are.”

“You totally thought you’d see the day, don’t lie.”

Now it was Mike’s turn to be caught off guard by how hard that made him laugh. Jay always smiled like he’d achieved his life’s one true goal when this happened. Only now did Mike realize he’d always wanted to kiss Jay after laughing like that, with his shoulders still bouncing as he licked that beaming smile off Jay’s face like it belonged to him, too.

“Okay,” Mike said, pressing his hand to Jay’s chest so that his shoulders flattened against the bed. “I’m gonna do it.”

Jay nodded and licked his lips, tried to make his face serious. He broke into nervous laughter anyway.

“I’ll do you after,” Jay said. “I’m good at it.” As if Mike was going to decline if Jay didn’t make this promise. “Don’t say anything about the overbite,” he warned, eyes narrowing.

“I wasn’t gonna,” Mike said, lying. “Geez.”

He started at the center of Jay’s chest and kissed his way downward, enjoying how trembly Jay had become, and the goosebumps that had appeared on his skin. It was a little chilly in the room, and the sadistic streak in Mike enjoyed the idea that Jay was all laid out and vulnerable for him, wanting to be warmed up. He dragged his teeth over the flat of Jay’s belly, licked the sharp point of one hip bone. It wasn’t so different from being with a girl, yet. He swiped his thumb over Jay’s dick again and listened to him gasp, then pressed the tip of his tongue out to taste the sticky pre-come.

“Jesus,” Jay said, peering down over his chest to watch this.

Mike decided he couldn’t be timid about this if they were going to get past the initial weirdness. He reached up and squeezed the insides of Jay’s thighs hard, almost enough to hurt, and pushed them open wide. Jay just watched him, his thighs twitching in Mike’s grip while his face went fully red.

“I should warn you that I’m not going to last long,” Jay said, his voice pinched and tight. He was shaking: it had started in his thighs and Mike could see it moving up to his shoulders.

“I’m okay with you not lasting long,” Mike said, hovering close enough that he knew Jay could feel the heat of his breath on his dick. He liked knowing this, liked watching Jay lose more and more of his composure.

“I know, but.” Jay swiped a hand across his face and tried to breathe normally. “You’re-- It’s gonna be in your mouth.”

“You’re going to come in my mouth?”

“Oh, _god_. Yeah, I don’t know. If you want.”

“Mhmm, okay. Just lie back. I know what I’m doing.”

“No, you don’t!” Jay said, laughing, but his shoulders relaxed and his head fell back. He gasped when Mike gave him a first little lick, then moaned, and didn’t really stop moaning until he was coming in Mike’s mouth approximately twenty-six seconds later. Not that Mike counted because he wanted bragging rights, or anything.

Mike kissed Jay’s shaking thighs and glanced at his bedside table, hoping to spot a glass of water or even a cold mug of old coffee to gulp down. There was nothing, but the post-swallowing aftertaste wasn’t as bad as he’d feared, so he crawled up to kiss Jay’s face, then his mouth, ‘cause why not. Jay grabbed him and held him close, and didn’t protest the taste of his own come on Mike’s mouth. Maybe he liked it. He was weird like that. Mike could relate.

“Holy shit,” Jay said when he seemed to have half-regained a thought process.

“Yeah, wow,” Mike said. “I was great at that.”

Jay snorted. “Congratulations. I bet I can, uh. Make you last for a long time, actually. That’s the best kind of blow job. I’m told.”

Mike hated the thought that Jay had ever blown anyone else, but he was too happy at the moment to let it get him down.

“I think you’re underestimating how hard I am right now,” he said, giving Jay a poke in the side with his dick. “But sure. Give it a try.”

Jay sat up and scrubbed his hands over his face. His hair was a little messed up, which Mike found cute. He also found it cute when Jay left the room and returned with a glass of water.

“Is this the proper receiver of blow job etiquette?” Mike asked, accepting it. He had been the receiver of several a blow job and had never gotten any of his lady friends a glass of water directly afterward.

Jay shrugged and sat on the bed. He tugged the comforter halfway over himself, suddenly remembering to be embarrassed about being naked.

“Are you at least gonna take your pants off?” he asked, muttering this from the corner of his mouth as he eyed Mike’s erection.

It had indeed grown uncomfortable to keep his dick contained, but Mike still liked the idea of being fully clothed while they did this. He need some sort of armor, as they were on Jay’s turf, both literally and figuratively.

“I’ll take it out for you,” Mike said, barely resisting the urge to refer to his dick as ‘the beast’ or some other term for a monster that was about to be unleashed. It hadn’t played well with women in the past. “But only if you tell me you _really_ want it.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Jay said, shoving him.

“Well, in that case.” Mike sipped from his water. “Guess I can just wait.”

Jay groaned and scooted closer. He put his chin on Mike’s shoulder and touched his chest, dragging his hand slowly downward.

“I guess I am pretty tired,” Jay said. “If you want to just go to sleep.”

“What!” Mike jerked toward Jay and scowled when he saw Jay grinning. He was too desperate for whatever came next to keep his guard up against having his bluff called.

“I’ll do this part,” Jay said, sneaking hand down to Mike’s fly. “If you want.”

What part? Oh, Jay was taking his pants off. Right, well. Mike’s mouth felt dry. He gulped more water, then slammed the glass onto Jay’s bedside table.

“Are you okay?” Jay asked, eyes clearing for a moment, like they were back to reality, though Jay was still naked and still had his hand on Mike’s thigh.

“It’s not like I’ve never had my dick sucked,” Mike said, defensive. “I’m fine.”

“Would you feel better if you got undressed?”

“No! Sorry. No. I’m fine like this.”

Jay put his fingers on Mike’s jaw and turned Mike’s face toward his. Mike huffed and lowered his gaze but let Jay kiss him, parting his lips for Jay’s tongue when he coaxed them open. Fuck, but it felt good. Even now, with Jay offering to relocate his mouth to Mike’s crotch, Mike didn’t want to stop this part yet. He’d never cared about kissing before.

Then Jay’s hand was on him, slipping into his pants. Mike made a very undignified sound of appreciation, something he failed to properly muffle against Jay’s mouth.

“Holy shit,” Jay said. He looked downright starry-eyed when he had his hand pushed into the slit of Mike’s boxer shorts and wrapped around his dick.

“You just have small hands,” Mike said, not sure why he was trying to downplay the size of his dick. Maybe it was because he wanted Jay to remain willing to put it in various places.

Jay pushed on Mike’s shoulders so he’d lie back on the pillows. Jay seemed too far away when he was kneeling between Mike’s legs, but Mike couldn’t really protest, mesmerized and breathing hard as Jay kissed and licked the pre-come off the head of his dick, and then he couldn’t think straight enough to mentally catalog exactly what Jay was doing with his mouth. He only knew it felt amazing and that he kept being pulled right to the edge of coming and dangled there helpless, over and over, until he was whining at the back of his throat, then cursing. When he finally finished he made a kind of broken sob sound that he’d never made during sex before, or possibly under any other circumstances.

“You okay?” Jay asked when he sat back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Yes,” Mike said, when he was confident his voice wouldn’t come out all watery and broken. His breath was still shuddery and he felt shaky all over, weird, also good. “Thank you.”

“Um. You’re welcome?”

Mike cared much less about remaining clothed after he’d come: he shoved his jeans and boxers off, fought his way out of his Lightning Fast shirt and rolled into Jay’s arms wearing his undershirt. Jay dragged the comforter up over them and kissed Mike’s face a few times before squirming free and going back to the kitchen for more water. He was wearing a clean pair of underwear when he got back in bed, and a soft old shirt with long sleeves. Mike found this so strangely wonderful: that Jay had put clothes on, that this was what he wore to bed and what he looked like when his hair was a little fucked up after sex. As if he’d sensed Mike thinking about his hair and finding it less than perfect, Jay neatened it with his hands before crawling across the mattress to fold himself into Mike’s arms.

“I thought you were gonna fuck my brains out,” Jay said when Mike almost instantly began to fall asleep, wrung out and cozy.

“Gimme a minute,” Mike muttered. His eyes were closed and his arm was tucked around Jay’s side under the blankets, his face pressed against Jay’s shoulder. Jay’s shirt smelled good, like clean laundry and like Jay himself. It was so familiar and exciting at the same time, to finally be this close.

“I’m pretty tired,” Jay said. He yawned and scratched his fingertips through Mike’s hair, lazy and soft. “Maybe we can do that tomorrow.”

“Mhm, okay.” The idea that Jay would still want him tomorrow seemed too wild to be true, though apparently he’d been wanting Mike all this time, or at least for the past year, since Mike had shown up at that wedding to retrieve him. 

Mike dreamed about the wedding, and in the dream he got there too late: Jay was married to Plinkett, and the volcano was exploding so violently that it was covering the entire Earth in lava. Mike didn’t really care about that part. He was desperately trying to pry Jay from Plinkett’s arms even as the world ended, somehow failing because Plinkett had been granted super strength despite defying his all-powerful ex-lover. Plinkett was laughing in mad, evil triumph. Jay at least seemed to want to flee his grip and return to Mike, which was a cold comfort as they remained unable to reach each other. 

When Mike woke up and found Jay sleeping beside him, he wasn’t entirely sure he’d returned to reality. This scenario seemed as unlikely as the evil dream version of the wedding-that-wasn’t, if not more so, and when had anything ever worked out this well for them? Mike burrowed down under the blankets and resolved to at least remain in this reality for as long as he could. Jay shifted against him and sighed as if he was thinking the same thing, still mostly asleep.

Mike’s head hurt when he woke again and saw pale morning light coming from the window over the bed. What was at first just a vague ache quickly became an intense screw-turning feeling on both sides of his skull as he tried and failed to get back to sleep, tucking his face against various parts of Jay as if doing so might heal his hangover. Jay seemed to be in bad shape, too, wincing and moaning when he leaned over Mike to find his water glass, which was empty.

“Why’d we do shots?” Jay mumbled, rubbing his fingers over his eyes, then his temples. 

“My fault,” Mike said. He touched Jay’s hip, not sure if he should dare it in the light of day. “Do you even remember all of last night?” he asked, nervous. 

“I wasn’t that drunk,” Jay said. “I mean, I was, but--” He gave Mike an uncertain glance and slid back down under the blankets. “Were you?” he asked, staring up at the ceiling. “And do you, uh. Remember? Everything?”

“I do.” 

It felt a bit like an answering wedding vow. Mike would laugh if his head wasn’t pounding. He closed his eyes and moved his face closer to Jay’s, and was relieved when Jay rolled toward him and gave him a peck on the forehead, then the nose. The relief came both from the fact that Jay still wanted to kiss him and that he seemed nervous and unsure, too. They inched back together gradually, gripping at each other under the blankets. 

They stayed in bed for a long time, exchanging pitiful noises to communicate the misery of their hangovers and taking turns as the little spoon. Mike liked it more than he’d expected, even with Jay’s beard scratching at the back of his neck. When Jay got up to take a shower, Mike missed him. It made him realize this had never been unusual: just going about his day and irritably wishing Jay was there to participate in every mundane thing he did.

“Here,” Jay said when he returned, nudging Mike from the half-sleep he’d drifted back into. Jay had water and Advil for him. Mike sat up to take it, and tried to be as casual as possible when he tucked his arm around Jay’s waist and pulled him down to sit on the bed. He would have to warn Jay that he could be somewhat insatiable when it came to physical affection. A girl he’d dated in high school had accused him of crowding around her like a bodyguard, as if they were always under fire.

“What’s for breakfast?” Mike asked. “Other than painkillers.” 

“I have a variety of health foods,” Jay said.

“But it’s Saturday morning! Do you even have butter? I’ll make you pancakes.”

Jay grinned. Then he looked worried, like he’d just remembered he was dreaming and that he’d have to wake up soon. Mike squeezed his side to remind him this was real. He needed the reminder himself, could relate. 

“Listen,” Jay said. He ran his tongue over his teeth and sat up a little straighter. “If this is just a one-off drunken fluke, you have to tell me now. Because-- Because. Yeah. It would be bad if I found out later. Worse, I mean.” 

“It’s not a one-off,” Mike said, giving him another squeeze. “It’s a forever-on.” 

“Is that a pun or a serious answer?”

“It’s both. C’mere.”  

Mike tugged Jay closer and kissed him, already afraid he wouldn’t remember how to do it. But it wasn’t so hard getting used to a mustache being involved, and he was pretty sure he’d never liked anything more than the way Jay clutched at him gingerly at first and then with a kind of full-body, shameless tightening of every part of himself that he could fit around Mike. 

“You should know I’m very clingy,” Mike said when he pulled back.

Jay’s eyebrows went up. “Mike, I’ve known you for like fifteen years,” he said. 

“So?”

“So I know exactly how clingy you are.” 

“I meant when I’m in a _relationship_.” 

Mike could feel himself flushing after saying so. Jay was trying to suppress a goofy smile, pressing his lips together, but Mike could see it in his eyes. He was really happy. 

“We’ve basically been in a relationship this whole time,” Jay said. “Just not having sex.” 

“Have we?” Mike was willing to entertain the theory. He often stumbled into things without realizing how serious they were.

“I mean, you were my date at my sister’s wedding,” Jay said. 

“That wasn’t a date! I was just your plus one.” Mike had insisted upon this because he was not expressly invited, possibly due to having offended Jay’s sister once, and he’d wanted access to the open bar.

“Plus one is kinda the same thing,” Jay said. “Anyway, yeah. You can cling, whatever. You can make me pancakes.” 

Jay only had some frou frou almond milk in his fridge, so the pancakes turned out kind of weird, but they weren’t terrible, and by the time they’d both eaten a couple of stacks the worst of their mutual hangover had faded. By early afternoon Mike was still wearing his undershirt and boxers, and he was in no hurry to get dressed, go anywhere, or do anything other than hover at Jay’s side for the rest of the day. Jay seemed fine with it, and while they lounged together on his couch watching movies, Mike thought: why ever be apart? He knew this was probably not a feasible approach to an adult relationship, but they were both nearing middle age, and Jay wasn’t wrong about the fact that they’d spent the majority of the past fifteen years together anyway. Why not go all in right away? Mike felt completely unalarmed by the revelation that he was in love with his best friend, whatever happened next. It seemed like something he’d realized and forgotten about five hundred times. He’d just needed Jay to say it out loud for it all to make a kind of lasting sense.

“Can I ask you something?” Mike said after they’d had sex on the couch, halfway through their third DVD of the afternoon. It had been more of a Jay showing Mike exactly what to do situation than a Mike fucking Jay’s brains out one, but Mike was fine with it. He wasn’t an expert, yet.

“Hmm?” Jay was half asleep, tucked between Mike and the back of the couch and wrapped up in a fleece blanket that wasn’t quite big enough to cover both of them. Mike had given Jay most of it. He was feeling generous. 

“I don’t know how to say this,” Mike said. But he had to, because it was bugging him. “Uhhh. Did you have sex with Plinkett, ever?”

“Fuck no, gross!” Jay’s eyes snapped open and he cringed, wrinkling his nose. “I told him it was against my religion to even kiss before marriage.” 

“What religion?”

“He was under the impression I was Amish, for some reason.”

“Oh. Well, thank god. What were you gonna do if I didn’t show up to crash the ceremony?”

“I guess I was just gonna say I changed my mind at the last minute. I was pretty sure you’d show up, though.” 

“Yeah? How come?”

Jay shrugged and closed his eyes again. He snuggled down against Mike’s chest. Mike was disappointed. He’d wanted a real answer about how Jay knew his mind even better than he did. 

“I guess it was all the wedding planning stuff you did,” Jay said, mumbling this just as Mike was giving up on him saying more. “I kept thinking, what was the point? Why were you so into it, when Plinkett would have married me anywhere and had the reception at a Denny’s? It was like you were planning your wedding to me vicariously through Plinkett.” 

“Huh,” Mike said. “It was kinda fun. Hey, Jay?”

“What?” Jay sounded worried, and his shoulders went tense. Mike decided to hold off, therefore, on proposing marriage. 

“Will you go to The Manhole with me again sometime?” Mike asked instead. “As my, you know. Plus one?” 

“I guess,” Jay said, peeking up at him. “It’s really more of a place to pick somebody up than a place to go on a date.” 

“But I want to make out with you in front of those guys.”

“Oh, god. Fine, sure, if it’ll make you happy.” 

“It will. And then I’ll take you on a real date. To someplace that serves wine!” 

“Sounds great, Mike.” Jay was smiling when he closed his eyes and pressed his face to Mike’s chest again. Mike could feel it.

Jay fell asleep and Mike lay there with his arms around him, thinking about all the new things they could do together now. It was as if for too many years he’d lazily subsisted off of the Jay Starter Pack and had now unlocked an amazingly complete Jay Expansion Pack loaded with new features. The only downside would be trying to get through their work shifts without doing something untoward in the shop, which maybe didn’t matter anyway. Usually they were alone together in there all day, with plenty of privacy.

The day went by too fast, but they still had Sunday to do it all over again, and they made it to The Manhole at the tail end of happy hour, at Mike’s insistence. He’d imagined kissing Jay in the booth in back in front of all the same dudes that had tried to pick him up the night before, but once they were there he wasn’t sure if any of them were among the mellower Saturday night crowd. He was too preoccupied with the perfect combination of hoarding Jay’s attention all for himself and drinking beer. 

“Can I ask you a weird question?” Mike asked when his face was hovering right in front of Jay’s after a beery kiss. 

“Okay,” Jay said. He was moony-eyed and maybe a little drunk again, holding Mike’s hand under the table. 

“What the fuck color are your eyes, man? I’ve been trying to figure it out for fifteen years.” 

Jay laughed, then looked a little disturbed. “Are you serious?” he asked. 

“Yes. It’s fucking crazy. It’s like they don’t _have_ a color, but they’re also _every_ color.” 

“They’re gray,” Jay said, deadpan. 

“That’s not quite right, though,” Mike said, squinting and pressing his face a little closer. 

“Do you need to see my driver’s license for proof?”

“No, no, there’s no way they got it right, that means nothing. There’s no option for this on the fucking DMV computer, believe me.” 

“You sound insane right now,” Jay said, but he was starting to smile.

“You must know what I mean, though. I swear to god they like, change colors. Sometimes I’m sure they’re greenish, then they’re kinda dark blue, and sometimes they look, like, _tan_?”

“I think it’s called hazel, when you’re talking about eyes.” Jay lifted Mike’s hand and gave him a kiss across his knuckles. “Anyway, what does it matter? You gonna write a song about them or some shit?”

“You better pray I don’t!”

Jay laughed hard at this and Mike kissed him again. He supposed it didn’t matter-- Or, no, it definitely did. But it didn’t matter that he couldn’t put the proper word to Jay’s eye color just now. He had the rest of their continued, expansion pack life together to figure it out.


End file.
